All The Things She Said
by pixiewayro
Summary: Dene Way is in love. The object of her every desire is beautiful, charming, sweet, kind and completely sexy. Her name is Lindsey Ballato, and she is flawless...apart from the fact that she's dating Dene's eldest brother, Gerard.
1. Chapter 1

Groaning, I make my way to the kitchen for some coffee. I could certainly use it, because I didn't get much sleep last night. Since Mom and Dad are away for the week, Gerard thought that it would be the perfect opportunity to invite Lindsey to stay over. I wouldn't have anything against it, normally, if I didn't wish that I could have been the one to make her giggle, squeal and gasp like that (when they thought that Mikey and I were already sleeping).

Not that I'm saying that Mikey is in any way innocent, of course. I've seen and heard more of him and Alicia than I really care to think about, after all, but this time he's innocent. No, he had enough decency to not have his girlfriend practically move in here this week. I don't know what the reason, and I can't say that I particularly care, but I'm grateful none the less.

Don't get me wrong, I love Alicia. She is one of my best friends, in fact. We share a lot of the same views and interests, she hangs out with Gerard and I, almost as often as she does with Mikey, and then doesn't really make a habit of making out with him in front of us. She's as pretty as she is nice. So, no, it's not for the reason that I don't like Alicia that I'm grateful that she and Mikey can bear to spend more than five seconds apart; it's just that I wish that Gerard would show us the same courtesy.

The problem is just that it's for another reason entirely.

In the case of Mikey and Alicia, it's just that I don't really want or care to see that much of my brother's love life for myself, thank you very much. In the case of Gerard and Lindsey, it's that I find it increasingly difficult (and physically challenging) to restrain myself from pushing him out of the way to pin her down and ravish her myself.

Why, I ask myself constantly, do I have to be the only Way sibling who doesn't have a girl constantly in my arms. But the answer is always the same: nobody even knows that I like girls. That secret is probably one that's going to remain safely hidden for as long as I'm the only Way still in High School (and nobody truly expects me to be in a serious relationship, anyway). Once I'm done with High School, though, I'm pretty sure that I'd be able to clue my friends and family in on the status of my sexuality.

It's not really that I'm all that ashamed of being a lesbian, because there isn't anything to be ashamed of, it's just that I can't really predict anyone's reaction when I do come out to them. I would also feel a bit more comfortable doing it if I knew that I had a partner to lean on for moral support (should it be needed), but I haven't met anyone that I really felt I wanted to fill that particular position – until I met Gerard's girlfriend, that is.

A better question, I should probably ask myself, is why are both my college brothers still living at home? With a sigh, I have to admit the truth, though, that I'm actually extremely glad about that. I would probably die without them (and, yes, siblings can totally be that close – when they don't want to secretly bang each other's girlfriends, that is).

No, the most important question is definitely why Lindsey has to be so damn perfect. Fuck my life.

"Hey, Babyway," she chirps, entering the kitchen as I'm pouring some milk and stirring my coffee, sounding entirely too happy and rested for someone who probably got as little sleep last night as I did (which is something I really shouldn't be thinking about – because it makes me equally pissed at Gerard for being a bastard lucky enough to have a goddess like Lindsey to call his own, and turned on by the memory of some of the sounds that I heard through my bedroom wall last night).

"Morning," I greet with fake cheeriness in my own voice, because there is absolutely no way that I'm going to give myself away here – besides, it's not really her fault that she's a goddess, and that I want to rip her clothes off and keep her all to myself…right? "Sleep well?" I add with a smile, asking the completely unnecessary question, but it's totally worth it for the smile that creeps over her lips. Her completely irresistible lips. Fuck.

I can't even fathom how it could be humanly possible for anyone to look so breathtakingly beautiful with sleep-tangled hair, make-up smeared all around her eyes, and one of Gerard's oldest shirts (which is a few sizes too large for her petite frame). It isn't supposed to be possible at all, and I highly doubt that it's even legal. If it is, there should really be a law set in place to change that, because I'm not sure how much of this I can take before I snap (and do something that I'm most likely going to regret).

"Lin," Mikey grumbles, also entering the kitchen, pointing an accusatory finger at her (which absolutely cannot be seen as anything near intimidating, due to his very impressive case of bed-head, and the fact that he's wearing boxers that are at least two sixes too big without a shirt over his extremely bony body), "if you're gonna stay over here," he adds, while stealing my coffee (which I allow, because he'll make us both new ones, and I had half of it already, anyway), completely undeterred by the fact that he looks absolutely in no way intimidating – like, at all –, "we have some rules that need to be followed, okay?"

She opens her mouth to respond, but he doesn't even grant her the opportunity to do so, and I supress my laughter, because it's too early in the day to even be alive (let alone being happy about that fact), and I haven't even been properly caffeinated yet.

"One," he grumbles, raising his eyebrows, pushing his glasses up his nose, "under absolutely no circumstances are you allowed to be anything but quiet or grumpy before at least noon (and after proper caffeination)," he emphasises that rule by gulping the rest of the mug of coffee that he stole from me down in one go, "and two," he sighs, "for the sake of remaining friends, can you and Gee keep it down at night? It's really scarring."

Mikey has absolutely no idea.


	2. Chapter 2

With Mikey's little speech out of the way, we all agree that the time for breakfast has fallen upon us. Well, really just Lindsey, who (being the perfect goddess that I know she is) has offered to make "all of her absolute favourite Ways" some pancakes "to start the day happy and right".

"Whatever pills you're on to make you this happy this early in the morning," Mikey deadpans, "I fully intend on going through your shit and stealing some for myself."

Snorting, I very pointedly do not voice to Mikey that I'm pretty sure it was just her ministrations with our dear older brother last night that has her this chirpy, and my reason for this is threefold: first, that's not something I really want to be talking about, when I actually want to be the one to be close to Lindsey in that particular intimate way; two, I don't actually want to give Mikey any ideas (which are probably lurking there beneath the beanies he is always wearing, anyway), lest he has Alicia moaning in my ears too, for the remainder of the time that the parentals are out of the way; and, most importantly, let it never be forgotten that I'm actually not that much of a bitch.

"She doesn't have any such pills, man," Gerard grumbles, entering the kitchen, looking still sleep-crumpled, sounding typically groggy (seeing as he's quite behind on caffeine consumption), "I checked," he adds, sounding almost miserable.

I am forced to sit and watch quietly as Lindsey hands him a mug of coffee (like she's his good little wifey, or some shit), and his eyes practically twinkle as he kisses her quickly as a thank you (on those lips that I so desperately want to feel on my own).

"So, what?" Mikey asks, seemingly completely oblivious to the display before our eyes (or maybe I just sometimes forget that Lindsey doesn't necessarily have this effect on everyone – evidently just on me and Gerard. Great). "She's just naturally this happy?" he continues, raising an eyebrow. "I don't buy it."

"Life's a song, Mikeyway," Lindsey grins her gorgeous grin, "why not sing it?" she shrugs, taking a bite of her chocolate chip pancake, chewing daintily.

Not really being able to take much more of her sunny aura, or the way it makes something inside me ache for more of the longing feeling, without actually snapping and crumbling into a small pile of teenage hormones at her feet, I quickly finish off my own breakfast. I place my dishes in the sink, mumbling another small (yet sincere) thanks for the breakfast, which earns me another one of her perfect smiles (which is completely unfair, but apparently the universe hates me).

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for school, Dene?" Gerard asks, being the older brother that he is.

"Nope," I mutter, putting quite a bit of effort into not snapping at him for putting emphasis on the fact that I'm, in fact, 'Babyway' (as I'm constantly being reminded). "I'm spending the day with Anya," I add.

"I almost forgot it was her birthday," Mikey says thoughtfully, because he is the brother who actually cares about his only sister.

Gerard doesn't say anything, even though I can tell that he's not too fond of the arrangement that Anya and I have (which has been tradition for the past three years already), where we blow off school to spend our birthdays together – just the two of us. I hate how he gets all parental about it, but I'm glad he's keeping his mouth shut. I'm still not fully convinced that it isn't actually just some jealousy over the fact that he didn't have what Anya and I have when he was in high school. (Frank doesn't count, because Frank is just as dorky as my two darling brothers are, and he only entered our lives when Gerard was seventeen. Plus, Gerard always had to share Frank with us).

"What do you have planned?" he asks, keeping his tone light, trying to make it seem that he is cool with it (which I probably should appreciate, because I know he isn't).

"Nothing you'd be interested in," I smirk, enjoying torturing him a little – just because I can.

"Oh, no, Dene," Mikey smirks, "I bet the two of you are gonna be on the news tonight."

"Of course, Mikes," I snort. "Anya and I are planning a day filled with debauchery, and we plan on breaking every single law in this shitty state." Just for the fuck of it, I add (completely deadpan) "I think we'll start with a round of steamy lesbian sex on the subway."

Because Mikey is my favourite, he ducks his head at my remark, hiding his grin in another bite of his pancake. Gerard, on the other hand, looks like I just slapped him hard across the face.

"I… You… What?"

"Do you think that's wrong?" I ask him seriously, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out, and I take it that he didn't receive this as the joke it was intended to be. If I didn't know any better (and, by that, I mean that I know for a fact that Gerard made out with his friend, Spencer, once a few years back, out of curiosity), I'd have a right mind to accuse my brother of being homophobic. I carefully hold my tongue, though, because my intention is to keep this light, and I don't want to bring the actual truth forth right now. Not yet.

"Aww, don't worry, baby," Lindsey grins, coming to my rescue (like I needed any more reasons to want to kiss her, seriously), "Dene is a good girl. If she's gonna be sleeping with anybody, I know she'd bring them back home, where it's safe."

"Yeah, like the two of you do," Mikey smirks.

"Yeah, no," I shudder exaggeratedly. "Don't worry, Mikes, I'd never do _that_ to you guys."

"Aww, are you saying I'm loud?" Lindsey pouts.

"She's saying that we have no interest in knowing exactly which spots on your body to touch to make you sound like _that_," Mikey retorts, ducking out of the way when Gerard tries to swat at him.

_Speak for yourself, Mikes._

"Mikey's right," I huff, finally making my way out the kitchen. "Oh, and by the way," I add, over my shoulder, "Anya is so not my type."


	3. Chapter 3

"BITCH!" Anya screams, throwing her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly, and nearly cutting off my air supply.

"Happy Birthday, slut!" I squeal, squeezing her back tightly. "Love you so much, and you better have a hundred more of these!"

"Of course," she grins brightly. "You and I are gonna grow so old, and we're gonna be the most awesome, most annoying grandmas ever. Everyone's gonna constantly ask when the fuck we're gonna croak, but we'll outlive them all. You're stuck with me, babe!"

"I figured," I roll my eyes. "You're like a cockroach, dude. Whenever I think you're finally gone, you come right back."

"Damn straight, honey! Now, enough of the sappy, lovey dovey bullshit! Let's go get pierced!"

I roll my eyes, but I can't wipe the smile off my face at her infectious craziness. I'm pretty sure that this day couldn't have come at a better time. I definitely need a proper distraction, and Anya is possibly the best distraction for me at the moment. I'm determined to have this day be about nothing but my best friend, and I'm completely set on not letting my mind wander in the dangerous direction of my brother's goddess of an absolutely perfect girlfriend.

We reach the tattoo parlour where Anya insists on doing the piercings rather quickly. Compared to some of the grimy, dodgy tattoo parlours out there, this one is pretty decent. It's also pretty full, so it must be quite popular. These are still not the types of places I tend to make a habit of hanging out at, though.

"Anna Banana," Bert, the reason for Anya's insistence on using this particular place, greets, beaming brightly. "Happy Birthday!"

He hugs her tightly, picks her up and spins her around a bit. As he places her back on her feet, he quickly pecks her lips.

"Hey, Bertie," she beams. "You gonna do me?"

"With Babyway watching?" he rolls his eyes, pulling me into a hug of my own. "I charge extra for that, baby," he winks.

"You're such an ass," I snort, as Anya slaps the back of his head.

"An amazing ass, who bought you girls their first booze," he counters.

"Please," Anya scoffs. "You know you were just hoping to get us drunk to take advantage of us."

"Aww, honey," he chuckles. "Sorry to disappoint you, but statutory rape isn't really my thing."

"You gonna keep reminding us of your old age, or are you gonna stick a needle in me?" Anya raises an eyebrow.

You would think that joking like this with Bert about how 'old and creepy' he is would get old, but it really doesn't. He's not even really that old. He's only twenty nine. He really did buy us our first booze, though. He's been Anya's neighbour for as long as we can remember; and, for some reason, her parents always felt it was safe to have him babysit us. In his defence, they were right. We were always perfectly safe. Gerard doesn't really approve of us hanging out with him, but I don't even know why I care about that. Gerard is definitely not my dad, and he gets to have the most perfect girlfriend ever, so he doesn't get to have opinion on this.

I shake myself mentally, pissed that my thoughts are already dwelling back to Lindsey, and force myself to focus on the present.

"Follow me, ladies," Bert grins, leading us to the back.

Anya immediately jumps onto the seat after we've selected our studs, eager to get her piercing first, eagerly sticking out her tongue.

"Okay, Banana," Bert grins. "Swallow, hun!"

He hands Anya liquid that is meant to be numbing her tongue slightly, supposedly to lessen the pain. This is approximately where I stop watching. I still want to get my own piercing, but I have no real interest in watching my best friend getting a needle stuck through her tongue.

"Fuhk," she hisses, to which Bert chuckles.

"Steady," he reminds her, which is followed by a quick, squeaking sound. "There. Good girl," Bert coos, "keeping still like that. Here," he gestures to the mirror, "have a look!"

"Aaaahh!" she squeals, tongue fully out of her mouth, inspecting it from all possible angles.

I have to admit, it looks pretty cool. It suits Anya, but I value my own tongue too much to do that, thank you very much.

"Isn't is sexy?" Bert asks me, still chuckling at Anya's ministrations in the mirror.

"Totally hot," I agree truthfully.

"So," Bert grins at me, "time to do you, huh?"

I have to lie down for what I want. I lift my shirt enough to expose my abdomen, feeling slightly nervous, but not really awkward. Bert wipes the area around my navel with surgical alcohol, and I flinch slightly, because it's cold. He marks the area with a small dot in sharpie where he will pierce the skin, and asks me if I'm satisfied with the location.

"What the fuck do I know!?" I ask, a little panicked. "Just do it!"

He chuckles, but obeys. I close my eyes, trying to keep as still as possible while he proceeds to pierce the needle through, place the stud in, remove the needle, and screw the little ball on securely.

"There," he grins. "Looks gorgeous."

I look down at it, grinning madly at the silver stud with the little green stone in.

"Damn, that's hot," Anya assures me, her tone sounding quite amusing, even though I bet she's in a world of pain.

We thank Bert for "making us yummy", to which he replies that it's his treat, because it's Anya's birthday. He also advises Anya not to make out with anyone for at least six to eight weeks, to which she pouts. We hug and kiss Bert goodbye and thank you, and I tug Anya out of there, hoping to take her mind off of her lack of smooches in the foreseeable future by going for iced tea. I refrain from mentioning to her that I'm currently not getting any tongue action either, while there is someone I really, really want it with – someone who my _brother_ gets to kiss.

With a deep internal sigh, I resign myself to the fact that I probably won't really be able to keep my mind completely off of Lindsey, especially since I'm wondering what she would think of my piercing.

After iced tea (my treat), we go get our nails done, and Anya gets a facial (all my treat).

We spend a few hours shopping, where Anya gets this really cute little purple dress with black swirls and patterns on, and I get a black skirt with a really cute red and black checkered belt. We buy some ice cream to eat on the way back, ready for the final phase of our day's plan: pjs and movies.

"Thanks for the great day, hun," Anya smiles.

"It's not over yet," I grin at her, "but you're welcome, babe," I pull her into a hug. "I almost forgot. There is something else. I think these would look really amazing with your new dress."

She gasps and squeals appropriately as I give her the silver hoop earrings that look like stems of flowers threaded together. They are the ones I know she's been eyeing for months.

"I love you," she throws her arms around my neck, squeezing tightly. "They're even more perfect now that they're mine. I love them! Thank you!"

"You're welcome, hun. I love you too."

At home, we're greeted by the sight of Lindsey lounging on the couch (not that that's a sight I particularly mind).

"Hey," she says in her perfectly sweet, velvety voice, and I involuntarily feel my knees getting a little weak. "You girls have fun? Oh, hey!" she jumps up from the couch, wrapping Anya in a hug, "Happy Birthday, by the way."

I'm very pointedly not insanely jealous about the fact that Anya is (even if only temporarily) in the goddess' arms, mostly because it's her birthday, and it would be kind of bitchy to resent her for this on her birthday.

"Thanks!" Anya beams, blissfully unaware of my disturbing thoughts. "Look what we did!" she sticks out her tongue.

"Wow!" Lindsey grins. "Hot."

"I know, right!"

"How 'bout you, Babyway?" Lindsey turns to me. "You get pierced too?"

"Oh," I mutter uncomfortably, "uhm, yeah, I did."

"Well?" she prompts. "Let's see!"

I reluctantly pull my shirt up enough to reveal my belly ring, feeling extremely awkward. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks, hating the fact that I look so plain and dull in comparison to Lindsey's absolute perfection

"That's pretty sexy," Lindsey says, though, and I'm pretty sure I'm having a heart attack.

Before I can totally die of embarrassment, though, Gerard arrives, and is forced to bear witness to our latest body modifications too, by a very oblivious, excited birthday girl.

By the time they leave us to it, for their own plans, I'm perfectly content to curl up watching movies with Anya, and let my mind wander.


	4. Chapter 4

Celebrating Anya's birthday, by watching a bunch of movies we both know off by heart already, of course has to be interrupted by Frank inviting himself over to our home. Alicia and Lindsey are there with my moron brothers too, of course, but I see that as much less of a problem. Well, Lindsey's presence is definitely something I view as problematic, but it's a different problem entirely. I have a problem with Lindsey being here, because it's too hard not to jump on her. The problem with Frank being here, though, is that the little shit demands a lot of all of our attention, completely distracting from my and Anya's special tradition.

"BIRTHDAY GIRL," he exclaims, pulling her into what appears to be a bone-crushing hug, pecking her cheek. "Happy birthday. I didn't know you'd be here, otherwise I would have brought your present."

There is something rising inside me, which feels a lot like anger, at the realisation that Gerard seems to be the only one who had forgotten Anya's birthday. I probably shouldn't really be all that surprised by that, though, since I'm not really sure that he likes me all that much. Why would things that are really important to me mean anything to him at all? He already has everything that matters hanging off of his fucking arm all day, doesn't he? I mean, why should anything else matter when he can only focus all of his attention on his perfect goddess of a girlfriend? I wonder if he even realises how lucky he really is, or if he just takes his perfect little life for granted.

Making an effort to pointedly ignore my thoughts of my older brother being a selfish, ungrateful douchebag, I find myself actually being touched by the fact that my brothers, my best friend and I seem to mean enough to Frank that he actually remembers things like Anya's birthday, and even apparently got her a birthday gift.

I slightly flush at the realisation that I might actually be taking Frank, and his constant love and presence in our home and lives, for granted. I suppose I'm just so very used to him always being around that I've started to subconsciously see him as a sibling or something.

The smile taking over my entire face as he turns his attention away from the birthday girl to give me my own greeting, though, is bright and genuine.

"How's my favourite Babyway?" he asks, hugging me to his chest tightly, squeezing the air right out of my lungs.

"Frankie," I whine through small giggles, trying to squirm away in search of breath, but he grabs my face in both his hands, peppering it in noisy kisses.

"You can't escape Frankie-love, baby," he smirks, causing everyone to snicker and laugh.

"Frankie," I try again, and he releases me with a final peck to my lips. "Dude, how do you have so much love to go around, huh? Does your girl know about the love you so freely give out to other girls?"

I know it's probably a mean and insensitive question, but luckily Frank doesn't take it the wrong way. He's spent enough time with us Ways by now to be able to tell what we really mean. He doesn't take my words to mean that I see him as an unwelcome guest in my life, or that he's a slut who needs to keep his high-maintenance girlfriend happy, rather than wasting affection on others. No, luckily, he understands that I actually mean it as a warped type of compliment – like, how can he actually be so full of love that he really can afford to give it out wherever he goes?

"Well, that's not fair, baby," he says with faux hurt in his voice, which sounds different from when he's actually wounded by someone's words. "You know I don't only dish my Frankie-love out to the girls," a small smirk suddenly threatens to pull his lips up at the corner, making it difficult for me to properly keep my own serious composure. "I mean," he adds, "I gotta spare some love for the dudes too," he winks, blowing Mikey a kiss.

"Damn right, sis," Mikey grins. "Don't flatter yourself into thinking you're the only one worthy of his love and kisses, just 'cause you have what I guess can pass as a pair of boobs."

I roll my eyes at my brother's lame attempt at a burn. Being the only girl in the family, and constantly finding myself surrounded by guys, I'm more than used to having my small breasts made harmless fun of. He knows it too, which is probably why he knows it's okay to say it; because it really doesn't bother me.

"You're just jealous that you don't have boobs, Mikes," I counter.

"Well," he grins, flinging his arm around Alicia's waist, causing her to laugh softly, rolling her eyes at his silly insinuation.

"I'm not counting your girlfriend's breasts, dude," I say seriously. "No offence, Lish," I quickly add.

"It's cool," she shrugs. "Lin's are the best, anyway."

Any reply I might have had ready, flies right out of my mind, because that's something I absolutely cannot argue with. Her breasts are something to wax lyrical about, and I really wish that I hadn't just been reminded of them, and how much I want to feel them beneath my open hands, pressed up against me, or any way possible, really.

"Besides," Mikey adds playfully, "you don't have any boobs either, sis."

"She does too," Frank pipes up, coming to my rescue.

"It's true," Lindsey nods. "Frankie, we gotta back our girl up, because these guys don't know what they're talking about."

"Aww, thanks, guys," I blush, trying my very hardest not to cover my chest with my arms in embarrassment. "But, really, it's cool. Brothers are supposed to take the piss-"

"Oh, please," Frank huffs, rolling his eyes. "It's just a fact, baby. You have them, and they're denying it, because they don't want their baby sister to grow up. That's all."

"Okay, dude, can we just please stop talking about my boobs now, please?" I flush. "I don't think it's-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Lindsey sighs, cutting me off again, dragging Frank in my direction by the hand.

Before I can even begin to make a slight bit of sense of what the hell is going on, both of them have got a hand firmly over one of my breasts. Lindsey is at my right side, while Frank is squeezing the left. For a moment, I feel like I've completely forgotten how to breathe, and I feel my mind turning to mush as my insides are fluttering and melting. If it's even possible, I think my cheeks are even hotter than they were a few moments ago. My mouth feels a little dry, and I feel like I've maybe just died and gone to Heaven. Lindsey fucking Ballato is touching my breast. Mine. Fuck! I'm acutely aware of how thin the material of the t-shirt I sleep in is, separating her hand from my breast.

Of course the one beneath Frank's touch tingles lightly too, but that's merely from the unexpectedness of it all, I suppose.

"There," Lindsey grins smugly, and I'm completely overcome by the desire to ravish her right here and now, audience be damned. "Now we can both vouch that you most definitely have boobs, Babyway," she winks, only melting me even more.

"Nice ones too," Frank grins.

"Okay, that's it," Gerard says a little awkwardly. "Can we please go back to a time when my girlfriend and my best friend weren't feeling up my baby sister right in front of me? That shit's not right."

"Amen," Mikey deadpans.

"Yeah, shame," Anya chuckles, "you guys are making poor Mikes uncomfortable."

"Aww," Alicia coos, gently stroking her fingers through Mikey's hair, like he's the one being traumatised and violated over here.

"I'm so sorry this situation is so uncomfortable for Mikey," I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes, secretly glad that the focus seems to have strayed from my chest for the time being.

"Yeah, that's moving," Gerard says shortly. "Anyway, are you about ready to go, babe?" he asks Lindsey, who grabs her purse, applying some raspberry lip gloss, which I can smell all the way over where I'm standing, which is really tempting, and completely unfair.

"Ready," she smiles. "Bye, guys! See you and your boobies later, Dene! Oh, and enjoy the rest of your birthday, Anya! Have fun!"

Why? Why does she have to be so perfect and polite, even when she's taking the piss out of me? Does she do it deliberately to torture me?

"Well, you can't look forward to seeing my boobies again, if you don't leave in the first place," I say sarcastically, trying to downplay how uncomfortable I'm feeling by rolling my eyes.

Shaking his head, Gerard drags her out the door, though; cutting off any further mentions of his sister's breasts, saying his own bye over his shoulder as they go. It's actually quite a relief to have them out the door, since it's less difficult to keep myself from being consumed by awkwardness with them out of the way.

"I think I'm gonna head out too, babe," Alicia says.

"I'll walk you out, baby."

Alicia greets us all with hugs, also wishing Anya a happy rest of her birthday.

"So, how's your birthday so far, An?" Frank smiles sweetly at Anya as Mikey shows Alicia out.

Anya excitedly babbles about how fun our day has been, and we show off our piercings, which Frank practically bounces around like a little rubber ball over in pure, undiluted excitement. It also leads to the revelation that Frank is considering getting his nipple pierced, which really doesn't come as much of a surprise to us, since it's Frank, and he already has his nose and lip pierced – not to mention the gauges in his ears, or the tattoos which seem to be spreading on his skin. I wonder how long it'll take before there isn't a single piece of inkless skin left on his body.

Anya also tells him about what we had bought today, and the gifts she had gotten, and about how she's going to have a dinner with her parents this weekend to celebrate, since her dad has to work, and doesn't want to neglect her birthday.

After a longer time than it really should take to see someone to the door, Mikey re-joins us. He has a happy grin on his face, his clothes and hair are rumpled and tousled, his lips look a little used, and his eyes are gleaming like those of an idiot in love.

It's amusing.

"What took you so long, Mikes?" Frank smirks, Anya and myself grinning along.

"What can I say?" Mikey shrugs, smirk still tugging at his lips, "She found it virtually impossible to tear herself away from my hot body."

"You don't have a hot body, dude," Frank snorts. "Well, It's been a pleasure, ladies," he grins, "but we have some serious business to attend to," he winks. "Don't wait up."

"Do you even know how gay that just sounded?" Anya laughs.

"Yeah, Frank," Mikey says. "Don't do that! You'll leave them thinking that we're gonna be doing something really gay, like playing video games, and drinking beer; when we both know that you're just gonna blow me."

"Yeah, right," Frank says seriously. "Dude, you're gonna be the one on your knees for me, not the other way around."

"You know," Anya says, "there are some really cool ways where you can both-"

"ANYA!" I cut her off before she can even complete her thought. "Don't encourage them!"

"Whatever," Mikey says. "You girls can actually join us, if you want? It would be fun to see Frank having his ass handed to him at his own video games by two girls."

Of course, Anya and I don't need to be invited twice, and we end up having quite a fun time playing with the guys. They even allow us to have some of their beer, in exchange for us making them some coffee.

It's after midnight when Anya and I finally decide to head back to my room to watch another movie until we pass out. The passing out seems to happen quicker than we anticipated, since we miss the movie ending, and even Gerard and Lindsey getting back home.

I'm woken some hours later, though, by a light coming from the hall. Upon my sleepy inspection, I notice that it's Lindsey, gathering things from the linen closet.

"What are you doing?" I ask her groggily.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I didn't mean to wake you. I'm sleeping on the couch. Gerard was kicking me in his sleep, the asshole."

What an idiot!

"No," I find myself saying, without my mouth asking permission from my brain first, "that couch sucks for sleeping on. You can come sleep in my room."

"You sure?" she asks, biting her lip, which generally makes not pinning her to the wall behind her and kissing her breathless a whole hell of a lot harder than it has any right to be.

No, I'm really not sure.

"Yeah," I smile, trying hard to ignore the fact that she's wearing nothing but one of Gerard's old shirts. "Come on."

As we crawl into one of the two single beds in my room together, careful not to wake Anya, I silently curse the fact that we don't actually have a guestroom. If Gerard hadn't insisted that the room which would have been the guestroom be used as his art studio, this awkward situation never would have happened.

I lie awake for a while after Lindsey falls asleep, acutely aware of how close she is. I ignore how easy it would be to just pin her down and kiss her now, or even just to reach my hand out and lightly touch her hair. I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry over the fact that she's within my reach, but I'm completely unable to have her, until sleep finally shows me some mercy.


	5. Chapter 5

Who would have ever thought that I would consider spending the night sharing a bed with Lindsey to be torture? If things were different, I bet I would've been over the moon at having the opportunity to be in such close proximity to the goddess of my dreams, in the stillness of night, concealed by the dark. In reality, though, I just woke up from what was probably one of the worst (and longest) nights of my entire life.

All night, I had been consumed by the thoughts of how close she was, and how little clothing she was wearing, how badly I wanted to touch her, how easy it would have been… Basically, my mind was just screaming _LINDSEYLINDSEYLINDSEYLINDSEY_.

Now, at the first signs of a new day, I finally deem it safe to escape from the hellish prison which used to be simply known as my bed.

I make my way to the kitchen, definitely needing coffee to get me through the day. I could probably use something stronger, but I'll take what I can get. Going through the motions of making the coffee, mostly on autopilot, I'm startled out of my trance by Anya entering the kitchen.

"Hey, hun," she mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek while passing, making a beeline for the iced tea in the fridge. Freak. "Did you know there's a Lindsey in your bed this morning? It wasn't there when we turned in."

"Yeah," I sigh. "I put it there last night, because it was keeping me up."

Anya raises an eyebrow at me questioningly, not really used to me being so mean to, or about, Lindsey.

"Sorry," I mumble. "Ugh! Gerard was kicking her in his sleep, and she woke me up gathering supplies from the linen closet to go make herself a bed on the couch, when I offered for her to share my bed, without really thinking."

"That sucks, dude," Anya says sympathetically. "I don't like sharing a bed either. You didn't get much sleep, I gather?"

"Next to none."

It's probably a good thing Anya doesn't know the real reason it was so taxing, though.

"I'm sorry, hun," she says softly, immediately followed by "I have to split, though. My mom made some noise about me being there before she went to work, and ugh! That woman."

"Okay, hun," I say, not wanting to go into her issues with her mother at the moment, especially since I can sense that she doesn't want that either.

She gathers her things, and I see her off, intending to go spend a sufficient amount of time sulking in the shower.

The water does calm me down some, but it does nothing to shut my mind up, so I dry myself off, and go make some more coffee. I rinse my mug, along with the ones Gerard and Lindsey must have left before they went to bed last night (if the dark red lipstick mark on one mug is anything to go by), mentally flipping them off the whole time I do so.

How dare they be this perfect, happy little couple? How can they have absolutely everything, and take so much for granted?

I realise that I'm probably being extremely unfair, since they probably didn't leave their mugs out with the intention for me to wash them, and no one actually asked me to wash them, and they probably do see me as a person (and not just 'Babyway'), but I really don't care.

They have everything, and they are very ungrateful.

The realisation that I'm evidently just as jealous of Lindsey, as I am of Gerard, is one that hits me quite hard. The more I allow the thought to settle in my mind, though, the more it makes sense. She really has everything: looks, personality, style, confidence, intelligence, security…

Shaking the thought off, I make my way back to my bedroom to get dressed, ready to get the hell out of here.

When I enter my room, though, I nearly have a heart attack, and it's the most I've ever wanted to hurt someone in my entire life. There, on my fucking bed, lies Lindsey (just where I'd left her earlier), only now my brother is on top of her, seemingly trying to suck her tonsils right out her perfect fucking mouth. He has her shirt pulled up so far that I can only see bright red panties against flawless pale skin, and her bare fucking breasts. Her breasts are actually exposed, and I have a perfect view of the one my stupid fucking older brother doesn't have his fucking paw all over.

As much as her naked breast is a welcome sight, especially as it is definitely a first for me, I feel physically sick at the sight before me. Hearing and seeing are definitely two very different things, and I wonder how far they would have taken it (on my fucking bed), had I not just entered my room.

"Fucking," I hiss. "Ugh!"

I slam the door loudly on my way out, not giving a single fuck that I'd just interrupted them, and head to Gerard's room. If he can do his perfect girlfriend on my bed, I can search his wardrobe for something I could wear to school.

"Ugh!" I growl again, slamming his door closed behind me, dropping my robe in a pile on his floor.

I find a _Madonna _shirt which I know fits me easily enough (and I know it looks awesome if I tie a knot in the hem). I quickly pull it on, not giving a shit that I'm wearing it without a bra. If he wanted me to wear underwear with his clothes, he shouldn't have gotten with Lindsey on my bed. Asshole.

I go to search further for that one pair of skinny jeans I know will fit a little loosely on me, but will stay up with a belt, when I find something else, which makes my blood boil even hotter. There, in my brother's fucking closet, hangs one of Lindsey's teeny little skirts. It's black denim, really short, with motherfucking _chains_ dangling from it. It should look incredibly slutty, but I cannot help whimpering internally at the mental image of Lindsey in that skirt. It quickly leads to the image of my brother shoving his hands up it, removing her underwear, and I'm hit with a new wave of fury.

I'm hoping it will piss them off to no end if I put it on, which mostly conceals the fear in the back of my mind that I won't look nearly as good in it as she would.

I barely have the skirt on and zipped up, when there's a knocking at the door. I can't keep the snort from escaping. Seriously, Gerard has no problem groping his girlfriend on my bed, but he knocks on his own fucking door. Freak.

"What?" I snap, not caring that I sound bitchy. Serves him right.

"Can I come in?" It's not Gerard, though, and I almost feel a little bad for snapping at Lindsey. Almost.

"Whatever," I say, grabbing my robe from the floor, just as she enters the room. "I'm leaving anyway."

She pauses for a moment when her eyes land on me, but she quickly recovers, closing the door behind her, not saying anything about me wearing their clothes.

"Look," she says softly, "I would really like to apologise. That wasn't very cool."

"Whatever," I say again, needing to get out of there as quickly as possible, before my resolve crumbles, and I do something stupid, like forgive her (or rape her).

"I'm serious," she sounds pleading, because she evidently has no idea that she's killing me. "That shouldn't have happened. I can totally understand that it pissed you off. You can rest assured, though, that we were only making out."

"Right," I say coldly. "I imagined the eyeful I got of your bare breast, then?"

"Fuck," she sighs, covering her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Dene. I don't even know-"

"What to say?" I finish for her. "Don't bother. Look, I accept your apology, but there were two of you getting handsy on my bed, and Gerard doesn't even see it as wrong. He never thinks about anyone but himself. Well, and you, ever since you started dating. I know I'm still the baby around here, but I would really appreciate it if he started treating me like a sibling, and not just someone who's there for his convenience – someone to brush off whenever it suits him."

My heart is pounding, and I really didn't mean to say any of that, but it was something that I evidently just needed to get off my chest, because I somehow feel lighter already.

"I'm sorry," she repeats. "Look, maybe you should talk to him. He loves you very much, hun. I guess he just doesn't always show it properly."

I think it would probably be a little harsh to say that the reason for that, is that she's always around, so I keep my mouth shut.

"Anyway," she continues, after her words are met by my stubborn silence. "I have some things to do, and I told him he had to spend some time with you and Mikey this week, so he'll be all yours after school."

"You don't have to leave," I say automatically, surprising myself a little, because I thought that was what I wanted.

"You, Alicia and I are apparently making your brothers dinner the day after tomorrow," she rolls her eyes. "So, I won't be gone for too long."

"Okay," I nod. "Sorry for being a bitch."

"Hey," she smiles, pulling me into a hug (and I'm fully aware of how little she's still wearing), "none of that, oaky? Just because we voice what we feel, doesn't make us bitches. Okay? You know I do it too, and you had every right to display your displeasure and annoyance right now."

Fuck! How much more amazing could this woman possibly get? She should really make it harder for me to want to kiss her.

"Okay," I nod, not trusting myself to say anything more.

"Good," she grins, then she nearly gives me a heart attack by planting a quick kiss right on the corner of my mouth, followed by a bright smile, and a quick squeeze of my hand, before she's out the door again.

_Shit!_


End file.
